Rift: A Voltron x Elite:Dangerous Crossover
by Perfknight
Summary: When Commander Marcus's botched hyperspace jump leaves him with a crippled ship, his only option is to land on the nearest planet that's even remotely habitable. A castle looms over the horizon, and Marcus quickly realizes he's living a Federation myth that's a thousand years old.


"Frame shift drive charging," a cool British voice said, a phrase that Commander Marcus had heard about a million times before. For the most part, it was the same old day: make a few hyperspace jumps, get some credits, and maybe take down a criminal or three. Just another day in the life of a bounty-hunter-slash-data-runner.

The only thing was, Marcus had never jumped to this particular system before. It was said to be inaccessible, fatal even, but somehow Marcus didn't believe the stories. Commanders jumping once and never returning, fried frame shift drives (essentially the one piece of hardware that made FTL travel possible) in the ships that had claimed to have returned.

Marcus did not think two sides of the same story could be so different and still make sense. You disappeared, but you came back and your drive was busted? To him, it sounded like a case of some idiot flying too close to the sun. That much of the theory was true, as the rest of the ships were often burned beyond belief. The Pilot's Federation ruled that the damage was from accidental extreme proximity to stellar bodies.

At this point, halfway into the drive's charging, Marcus was having second thoughts. His heart was set on exploring this system, but the stories haunted him, even in his bliss of denial. It almost made him hit the abort button. By the time he could have, however, the countdown had already begun.

"Five, four, three-"

"Here goes nothing," Marcus whispered to himself, and braced for the worst right as his fearless trapezoidal ship announced:

"Engaging."

Marcus was blasted back into his seat, something he was quite used to. This time, though, his heart was racing. The joy of a hyperspace jump had left him long ago. No, this time, his heart was pounding at light speed because he let the stories get to him.

By the time he was a couple of seconds into the jump, he swallowed, letting himself relax. No warnings or anything crazy happening yet. His ship wasn't a charred mess. Marcus took a deep breath then laughed lightly. Maybe he was worrying for nothing.

It was right at that moment that the sirens went off. The Cobra ship lurched forward (Marcus almost smacked himself on his scanner) as its systems blurted out, "Warning: frame shift drive operating beyond safe limits!"

"Oh, come on," Marcus said, regaining himself and rapidly accessing his modules screen, fingers flying. "Don't do this to me, baby girl!"

Of course, Marcus was technically still in a jump. His navigation, systems, and comms modules were all disabled. He was at the mercy of hyperspace, not to mention whatever was causing this anomaly. This had never happened before.

He never liked being at the mercy of anything.

Helpless at this point, he grit his teeth and braced himself for an explosion, death, anything. His breathing was almost out of control. He could only get out one word:

" _Please_."

By the time the horror show that was that jump ended, Marcus and the Cobra were very shaken up. The ship tumbled once before Marcus could regain control. As soon as he got the ship steady, he darted his head around the cockpit, checking for damage. Sparks were flying inside the cockpit - never a good sign. He couldn't see the hull; he'd have to get it checked out. If he could get it checked out.

As soon as he determined the ship wasn't going to collapse, he opened up his systems module once more. At least that portion worked. He swiped until he found the systems checklist - and his jaw dropped.

His FSD was at 54% integrity. Hull was just under half. Shields were in oblivion. He tried deploying his hardpoints: no luck. Whatever was between those two systems had nearly torn his ship apart.

Marcus slammed his fist into the wall and swore so loud, he nearly deafened himself. He rubbed his knuckles and looked at his fuel. The meter showed less than five percent.

That made Marcus raise his eyebrows. He had been just over three-quarters full when he first jumped. How that . . . thing had torn seventy percent of his fuel out of its tank was beyond him. Completely. Hyperspace damage was one thing since it was incredibly finicky beyond normal use. But this . . .

Marcus gulped. This was not good. At all.

He turned to his left, bringing up his navigation panel. Everything in the system was unexplored. Not one of the nearby stars was one he recognized, and the one he had jumped from was gone. Marcus bit his lip. System mapping probably had nothing. He had only scanned, and scans could only go so far. He'd have to play it by ear, or by eye since he could only see if a planet looked habitable. Even better if it had a station attached. He sighed and started flying.

It took him almost a half-hour with his FSD on the fritz, but he finally made it to something that looked like a remotely habitable planet. He was ready to praise the gods - if he actually believed in them - he was so happy. He settled into orbital flight as soon as he could, scouring the planet for any signs of settlement. Settlements meant habitats, and habitats usually meant a breathable atmosphere. Usually.

Then the thought occurred to him: What if this place didn't even have a station? His heart fell to his stomach.

 _No_ , he chided himself. _I can't have those thoughts. Not when I'm almost out of luck_.

He decided to take another scan. When he checked navigation, he gasped softly. A station. It was unexplored still, and he did not know its capabilities, but it was a start. If they could get him fuel and repairs, he'd be hunky dory.

When he got up close to the installation, he squinted. The nav lock was settled on top of what looked like a futuristic castle. It was a brilliant mix of white and bright blue, but it looked nothing like the stations he was used to. He tried flying up, down, and all around it - the nav lock remained where it was. The thought of Earth in the Sol system crossed his mind - it had stations that grand - but logic quickly ruled that out. Marcus bit his lip again and opened his comms.

"Castle station, this is Commander Marcus operating a Cobra mark three vessel, does anyone copy?"

No response. He waited five, ten seconds. There was no way they couldn't have gotten his message, seeing as he'd broadcast it to half the system.

He had no choice. He had to land and get up close to that castle. If they wanted to kill him . . . he would just have to hope they didn't. At any rate, he did not have a way of getting back yet, but he did not want to die here.

Marcus set his ship down on the ground without too much of a problem for something that was half space dust. He checked the atmosphere type, just to make sure. Around 78% oxygen, the rest non-toxic gases. He nodded to himself and opened the boarding ramp, taking with him a personal defense weapon - nothing fancy, just a kinetic pistol - and set out for the castle that loomed in the distance.

In his pilot's uniform and Federation badge, he should have been easily recognizable to someone from his galaxy. There was the obvious possibility that this was not his galaxy, but he didn't dwell on it. He kept his weapon low, but in his hand, in case he needed a quick escape. Stations never compromised him unless they were hostile.

The thought crossed his mind: _Am I really hostile here_? It was very possible, even with what little information Marcus had on the system. He didn't even know who controlled it - if anyone. Federation? Empire? Alliance? An independent faction?

If it were any of the latter, he would be dead in a heartbeat. However, whoever did control this system was either oddly quiet, dead, or didn't speak English. The last one made him think of Thargoids, the mythical aliens that everyone who had ever left their station had heard of. If these aliens were real and here . . .

Marcus kept walking.

Most of what stood in the way between him and the castle were distance and grass. A few rolling hills and clumps of forest, but nothing impossible to navigate through. The castle, however, seemed ages away. It was most legwork than Marcus had ever had to do at any station. Ever. Even the planetside ones. It was his only hope, however.

He could only hope his hope didn't kill him on sight.


End file.
